Snippets
by RenaRoo
Summary: Sometimes the greatest memories are the snippets of childhood. A collection of toddler tales.
1. On the Same Page

Forewarning you on this one, this isn't a multichapter story so much as a place for me to dump off my writing exercises that turn into cute snapshots of the turtle's childhoods. They won't be in chronological order (I don't think) and they won't be always stories so much as drabbles. Kinda like I said, they're writing exercises that I liked and decided to share. They're snippets!

TMNT, Leonardo, Raphael, Michelangelo, Donatello, Splinter, and the Foot © Mirage Studios  
story © Turtlefreak121

**Snippets**  
On the Same Page

2 Years Old

It was not entirely uncommon for the three to ban together, fed up with their brother's antics, and refuse to share with him during their playtime. I had discouraged the lot from this behavior on several occasions, assuring them that as brothers with only each other in the world that they should enjoy one another for what they were worth.

Even I, however, could understand why the three would leave Michelangelo to himself after he had decided, as a game, to place glue under all their pillows the night before.

His pranks had cost him his brothers' trust for the day and, of course, the ability to play with them as well. Still, no matter what angle I saw from, it hurt my heart to see one of my sons alone in the corner with his shell to us all.

I came to Michelangelo and sat by him, gently massaging his shoulders as he sniffed and looked down to his bare, toyless lap.

He suddenly moved his hand in a jerking fashion. "Nobody likes Mikey," he said somberly in the slow, drawn out way I read their bedtime stores to them. He then jerked his hand again in the same peculiar manner and once more 'read.' "Nobody likes Mikey."

"What are you reading, my child?" I asked sweetly as I pulled my young turtle into my lap. "Is this a new book?"

Sniffling, the child nodded.

"What is it called, my Michelangelo?" I pressed further.

"Nobody Likes Mikey," he declared and sniffed again.

"Oh, how sad," I countered before running my fingers over the invisible pages. "And what is this story about?"

"Mikey," he said. "He has no friends and nobody likes him."

"Ah, but what's this?" I say, playing along as I turned the 'page.' "On this page it says 'And then Mikey made many friends.'"

Turning abruptly, Michelangelo gave me a soured, angry look and then turned to the book in his lap before letting out a small utterance, 'shutting' the invisible book and then turning to me again with a pouting lip.

"Daddy!" he cried. "You on the wrong page!"

…

_A/N: Thanks to Jami and Maizie for the story behind this one!_


	2. Sleepover

This one came from a writing exercise that went wrong XD; I apologize for the brash updates.

TMNT, Leonardo, Raphael, Michelangelo, Donatello, Splinter © Mirage Studios  
story © Turtlefreak121

**Snippets**  
Sleepovers

7 Years Old

He felt the warmth of something against his shell and immediately grabbed a hold of the chubby arm as it had attempted to hold onto his waist. He released an irritated growl before spinning around to look at his brother.

"Go away, Mikey!" Raphael hissed as he scooted away from his brother. "This is my bed! Go sleep in yours!"

"Shuddup, Raph," moaned Leonardo from not too far off, still half asleep within his own bed.

"We're sleeping," Don yawned before turning over in his.

The only bed empty rested on the other end, its sheets swirled about and entangled like if a dog and cat had been fighting within them. Their resident was instead in front of the irate little turtle, grinning his one-tooth-amiss grin.

"Can't I sleep with you tonight, Raphie?" the youthful Michelangelo pleaded, his hands rubbing together. "I got scared. Please don't make me sleep alone!"

"We're in the same room!" the brother hissed in reply before shoving Mike to the floor and swooping up his blankets. "And this is _my_ bed! So leave!"

With that, young Raphael curled his blankets and sheets around himself and buried himself into his mattress. His shell was abruptly turned to his young brother, surely that should have sent the signal that he wanted nothing to do with his nighttime fears.

Like usual, however, Mike was persistent.

The smaller turtle gently grabbed onto his brother's shell and whimpered.

"No, Mike!" he growled in reply. "Go to your own bed!"

"But we can have a sleepover!" Mike decreed as he climbed back onto the edge of the bed. "And it'll be lots of fun."

"I wanna just _sleep_," Raph snapped in retaliation.

"Please, Raphie?" Michelangelo whimpered yet again. "I can't sleep on my own—I'm really scared!"

There was a pause of silence before Raphael released a groan and scooted over, relinquishing a bit of his hold on his blankets. He muttered to himself as Michelangelo giddily leaped into the bed and buried himself within the covers.

Once more, he felt warm hands surround his waist but Raphael just sighed and let them be.

…


	3. Mysterious Spots

I've had this concept of "freckles" for some time, though it's only translated to one or two pictures on my deviantART account. Still, I decided to give it some time on my writing exercises. Who knows, maybe you guys will like it.

Thanks for the wonderful reviews!

TMNT, Leonardo, Raphael, Michelangelo, Donatello, Splinter © Mirage Studios  
story © Turtlefreak121

**Snippets**  
Mysterious Spots

5 Years Old

Splinter passed his young sons and chuckled at how not one of his sons seemed to have moved from the spot they were left at.

Shells upturned by instinct, Leonardo, Raphael, and Donatello remained sprawled on their stomachs, receiving a lot of comfort from the sun, leaking through the storm drain above, that beat down upon their shells. Truly, they almost seemed lulled to sleep.

This form of babysitting had been Splinter's choice since they had been children. So long as he knew his savaging would not take him too far away, the aging Rat allowed the children to bathe in the natural sunlight.

His eyes shifted from the quiet three and turned toward his fourth and consistently unique son, Michelangelo.

Unlike the other three, Mike had chosen against the more natural sunbathing position and was soaking in the light face-first, his shell shakily balancing him. He did not seem to care, however. Young Mikey was thoroughly enjoying his position.

"Come, my turtles," Splinter chuckled. "It is time for our voyage home."

"Yes, Master Splinter," the four spoke up before rising to their feet, with, again, the exception of Michelangelo.

"Help! Help! I can't get up!" he cried.

"C'mon, Mikey!" Leonardo groaned as he and Donatello neared him, each taking a hand and joining in lifting the little brother up.

Grinning a toothy grin, Michelangelo looked around his brothers before giggling. "Thankies!"

The others, however, were all staring at the young turtle. Even Splinter seemed utterly shocked as he looked over Michelangelo. He shook his head, as if to check his vision before looking at Michelangelo more closely.

"My son," Splinter said gently, "Did you get something on your skin?"

"On my skin?" Mike asked.

The other three turtles gathered together, surrounding Michelangelo and marveling at the sight much like they had the first day that Master Splinter had discovered how to bring cable into the Lair. Their wide eyes grew as the afflicted brother neatly poked at each rounded spot, the skin sticking to his finger slightly but not being any more raised or different in texture than the rest of his skin.

"What's it?" Mike asked curiously as his brothers began kiddingly poking each spot for themselves.

The tan, nearly brown spots seemed to only be more marvelous the more they looked at them and questioned. It was unlike anything any of them had seen before.

"You were layin' wrong!" Raph snapped at Michelangelo. "You probably got sick!"

"You feel okay?" Don asked worriedly.

"Is it gonna come off?" Leonardo looked back and asked their father.

Mike, enjoying the attention, merely grinned wider as his father knelt by him and gently rubbed his cheeks where the mysterious spots seemed the most potent. The skin merely stretched and rubbed against the rat's fingers with no response.

Splinter chuckled as he stood back up. "My sons, I do believe that your brother has developed freckles."

"Like Annie?" Mike gasped excitedly.

"Why he have freckles and not me?" Leo asked as he rubbed his own cheeks.

"Or me?" Don pressed.

"Who wants 'um?" Raph sourly questioned as he folded his arms.

Splinter laughed gently. "My sons, I believe it was simply the way that Michelangelo was laying. The sun pelting on his skin must have formed these spots on his face."

"You mean they're sunspots?"

"Not exactly, Donatello."

"Can we get them, too?"

"I am unsure, Leonardo."

"Who wants 'um?"

"Soften your attitude, Raphael."

Michelangelo rubbed his cheeks and looked at Master Splinter happily. "Do ya like 'em, Master Splinter?"

Splinter chuckled and scooped up his son. "They suit you very well, Michelangelo." The gentle father then looked up to see his remaining three sons rushing back to the rays of light and attempting to balance themselves on their shells. "What is it that you are attempting, my turtles?"

"To get sunspots like Mikey!" Leo explained.

"'Cept better!" Raphael added as he leaned his head back.

…

A/N: I know, this has been a lot of Mikey but it will get more diverse with the next submission, I promise! I have plenty of "toddler" tales about Leo, Raph, and Don, too!

Please Review


	4. Bad

Alright, so here's finally one that's not about Mike.

Thanks for the wonderful reviews!

TMNT, Leonardo, Raphael, Michelangelo, Donatello, Splinter © Mirage Studios  
story © Turtlefreak121

**Snippets**  
Bad

9 Years Old

With a deep breath, he entered. The pounding in his chest was subsided only by the familiar smells and lighting, how the world seemed to be just like it was when he was a smaller child. It did feel as though his world could soon be coming to an end.

Deep within Raphael, though, he could not suppress the thought.

His eyes glanced about the room of his father and he felt, if nothing else, slightly sickened by the intimidation of it all. He was already in trouble, he knew that, but he did not know if he was going to be beaten within an inch of his life.

Splinter had done his best to never strike any of them as punishment, but years of training had taught the four brothers that, if nothing else, their father _could_ wail on them like there was no tomorrow. How anyone could suppress such strength astounded Raph.

It also scared him.

He did not want to imagine the day to come when his father could very well lose his cool with them or particularly Raphael. After all, Raph knew he could easily get on his father's nerves. He had seen it happen before. Who knew what it would take to be taken down by his father.

The images played within his head but he could not feel any sympathy for himself. In the end it all came down to the truth: it would have been _his _fault.

Those thoughts were too late, though. He was now at the threshold of fate itself. Surprisingly, though, his father did not look angered or confused. He seemed expectant.

"Master Splinter," Raphael whispered lowly.

"Yes, my son?" Splinter questioned as he looked toward the young student. He was not intimidated by the fact that the turtle he had raised was already eye-level with him, rather, he seemed even more confident and, perhaps, _scary_ than he had been when Raphael was a child.

"I wanted to say I was sorry for not doing what you told me to earlier," Raph stated lowly. "I wasn't being very good at practice today."

Splinter nodded in acknowledgement. It was hard to forget what had transpired just hours beforehand. No doubt the master's memory of the student's defiance and troublesome ways had been what he was dwelling on.

"You are a rambunctious child, Raphael," Splinter sighed. "This causes much difficulty in teaching you the patient and calming ways of the ninja. Today's events merely reminded me that you and your brothers are not ready for weapons."

"But the others _are_ ready!" Raph pleaded. The complaints of his brothers echoed in his mind, the disappointment there had been in the removal of their new weapons. "The others are doing fine with weapons. I'm just _Bad_, Sensei. They should get their weapons back."

Turning his head to the side, Splinter gently shook frowned before sighing. "My son, do you believe that you are _bad_ while your brothers are not? That you are a worse student because your spirits are more lively and untamed?"

Raphael frowned, looking at his master. "I am Bad, Master Splinter. That's why you shouldn't punish Leo and Don and Mike. They were being good with the weapons. I was the one not obeying."

At the mention of the truth, Raphael's head dipped downward. He looked at his toes as the curled inward, attempting to escape from the situation. The good smells and lighting and feeling of the room had all but dissipated.

Warmly, his father's hands cupped around his chin and tilted his head up. "My son, you are not a bad child. Your difficulty as a student is merely a testament to what an active young warrior you shall soon become once I teach you to restrain your bountiful energy."

The youngling's face lit up at the prospect. "You really think so?"

"I know so, my dear son," Splinter nodded gently. "I shall return weapons to practice soon enough. Your brothers shall forget their anger over the situation long before so, though."

Raphael smiled and hugged his father. "Thank you, Master. But please don't tell the others I'm not Bad. They leave me alone when I act mad if I'm Bad."

Splinter chuckled. "Of course, my son."


	5. The Doctor

Thanks for the wonderful reviews!

TMNT, Leonardo, Raphael, Michelangelo, Donatello, Splinter © Mirage Studios  
story © Turtlefreak121

**Snippets**  
The Doctor

4 Years Old

Walking dutifully toward the toy chest, Donatello held his chin up. He could see in the corners of his eyes the line of patients which, like good patients, patiently sat in a line against the wall of the playroom. He also saw Michelangelo teetering in the corner, anxiously first in line, with the true patient clutched in his arms.

Clearing his throat, Don reached forward and grabbed the white, dented metal lunch box and held it up to the light.

Yup. It was the one with the red marker plus signs littering it. It was the one he needed to work with and it was most certainly the one that brought Michelangelo to exhale a fascinated "_ahhhhhh_" at its splendor.

Mike stood up.

"No, no, Mikey!" young Donatello whined as he retrieved the rest of the play things from the chest. "I hafta call you up first. Remember? It how doctors do it." This was true. They had all watched enough TV and read enough Arthur books to know.

"Otay," Mike responded before lowering back down, looking at the patient in his arms. "Huwwy!"

Donatello carefully pulled up the latex gloves and stared at them for a moment. He never could figure out what the extra fingers on them were for, so he tied them around the fingers he did use. Then he slipped the torn apron Master Splinter could not wear anymore over his head and looked over his shoulder. Grabbing the First Aid kit he was set.

"Otay. I Dr. Don now," he announced, listening to the applause of the stuffed audience. "That mean I ready, Mikey."

"Otay!" Michelangelo exclaimed before leaping up and rushing to his brother's side. He whimpered slightly as he held out the bear, shamefully revealing Teddy's arm, torn at the seam. "Can you fix 'im, Docta?"

"Yup," Don nodded as he opened the metal box. "That why I a docta."

He narrowed his eyes, leaning so far forward his beak nearly touched the sticky fur of the beloved toy. Tapping the arm he nodded and sniffed. "Yup, jus I susp-er-ected. Pancake syrup. He had breakfast this mornin'."

"You're really good docta, Donny," Mike said in utter amazement before pointing at the arm once more. "Are ya gonna fix his arm?"

"Jus broken, Mikey," Don said before pulling out a few sheets from a toilet paper roll that rested in the box. He then wrapped around the bear's arm. "Wut happened?"

"Wrestlin'," Mike replied just before two more people entered the doctor's office. He scowled at the red clad turtle in particular and crossed his arms. "Because Raph wuz wrestlin' with him even though I say not to."

"It's jus a bear," Raph snapped.

"Raph!" Leo growled back, crossing his arms at his brother.

"It is!" Raph responded sourly before looking to Mike and Don. "Sorry, Mike," he muttered, just like rehearsed. As soon as a grin came to the other's face, Raph turned his attention to Don. "Are ya a painter?"

"I'm a docta!" Don responded, pointing toward the box.

"You look like Masser Splinter cookin'," Leo grinned at the apron. "Why you wanna be a docta?"

Doctor Don held up his chin and smirked. "Cuz I help people!"

...

_Special thanks to NamiAngel for the picture which inspired this Snippet_


	6. The Question

Thanks for the wonderful reviews!

My neighbor and her daughter (who inspired the first Snippet) are in a curious situation. She's pregnant and while her older son has known almost since the beginning, she's not sure how to explain things to her three year old. So, to Jami and Maizie, thanks for inspiring yet another Snippet!

TMNT, Leonardo, Raphael, Michelangelo, Donatello, Splinter © Viacom  
story © Turtlefreak121

**Snippets**  
The Question

6 Years Old

Whenever a newspaper was in his grasp it was always cause for celebration. Living in the sewers was not exactly the perfect conditions for finding such a novelty, especially a current one. To find the one he had was almost inconceivable – it had been printed just that day.

Settling down with his coffee for the morning, Splinter sipped carefully, staring at the small print and cursing his old eyes.

There in his chair, Master Splinter was in his zone, the ultimate refuge of comfort. It was a time that was not _commanded _as his and his alone but it was respected as such. His students often demonstrated their respect by not interrupting this time of self reflection.

It took a lot of courage for his student to walk in despite this silent agreement.

"Master Splinter?" questioned the young Leonardo, his face puzzled. "Can I ask you a question?"

Smiling, Splinter folded the paper over his knee and nodded to his little turtle. "Of course you may, Leonardo. I will answer any questions you have to the best of my abilities," he responded before waving for the turtle child to come closer.

Obeying, Leonardo stepped up to his father and rubbed the back of his neck. He took a long breath before starting the tale. "Okay, so I was watchin' t.v. with Mikey and Raph and a stork came in and brought a baby to the house. An' Raph said that the stork doesn't _really _give away babies. But if that's true then where'd you get us? Where does anyone get babies?"

Splinter stared at his son and frowned. "This most certainly was not the sort of question I was expecting, Leonardo."

The turtle's face fell and he grew an almost terrified expression before shaking his head. "Is it a bad question, Master?" he asked worriedly. "I didn't mean to. I just didn't know!"

Chuckling, Splinter shook his head. "No, no, nothing of the sort, Leonardo. I was simply surprised that you are asking me this question now," the father explained before coughing into his fist. "I have not truly thought of an answer."

Leonardo simply stared, only blinking in response.

Seeing that the question was not leaving his son's mind any time soon, Splinter sighed and did something he had promised a long time he would never do.

"You and your brothers came from a peach tree," Splinter stated. "I saw four large peaches and decided to take them home. The next morning the four of you had emerged and I was very happy to see I was blessed with you as my sons."

Cocking his head to the side, Leonardo grew a strange frown. "So Donny was right?"

Rather surprised, Master Splinter rubbed his chin. How in the world did Donatello, a normally advanced child as far as thinking was concerned, come to such a strange conclusion. "Donatello knew that you all came from peaches?"

"No, he got that wrong," the little turtle shrugged. "He said we crawled outta eggs. I like peaches better, though. Thank you, Master Splinter!"

With that, Leonardo turned around and left the room to tell the happy news to his brothers and Splinter watched him almost speechless. What a bizarre first impulse that was to have, to so simply avoid a more than simple truth.

He sighed and took out his newspaper yet again. It looked like he would have to straighten it out at a later age.

…


End file.
